


Abysms of Lunacy

by JulisCaesar



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Eldritch Abomination, Gen, General Trauma, Mind Rape, Minor Character Death, Psychological Trauma, Time War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 06:45:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulisCaesar/pseuds/JulisCaesar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She turned on the intercom again, ignoring him. “Crew should now be at battle stations.” Hands back on the jump levers, Cass leaned slightly towards the mike. “Jumping into the Time Vortex in three. Two. One. Now.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am aware that I have no textual evidence for Cass's species. Just run with it, okay? Next chapter up tomorrow.

The recruiter was Gallifreyan, or looked it, except for his hair, which was bright blue and close cropped. Cass stared at it as the queue wound forward. Was it natural? Could it be natural? He probably was an alien, after all, and the Monans were blue all over. Maybe he had dyed it. She’d heard of some Shobogans who dyed their hair in Chapter colours. Would that make him a Cerulean then? Or – she’d heard the stories – some aliens didn’t _have_ chapters. But if he wasn’t in a Chapter, why dye his hair?

She was still staring when she reached the front, and the recruiter had to clear his throat to get her attention. “Name?”

Cass almost came to attention, but no – he  didn’t fill her mind like another Gallifreyan, just a quiet fuzz to tell her that he was alive. “Cass,” she said, trying not to bounce or stare too obviously at his hair.

He glared at her over his clipboard. “ _Full_ name, kid.”

“Cassanostavarius,” she rattled off, rolling her eyes. At his stare, she said, “I felt pretentious.”

Thick fingers pounding at the keys, he typed it in slowly. “Pronouns?”

She frowned at him, wondering why he couldn’t just sense them, and then belatedly realized. Whatever he was, he wasn’t telepathic. “She, her, hers.”

“Age?” he asked, looking up again.

She bounced accidentally, proud. “One hundred twenty three years, two hundred nineteen days, six hours, twenty-”

“That’s plenty.” He punched that in. “Species?”

Cass froze, staring at him. “H-human.”

The recruiter let his clipboard rest on the small table, raising an eyebrow. “Pull the other one. ‘S got bells on.”

She bristled, pulling absently on her tunic. “I am, though.” Normally she hated her accent, the rural twang that marred all of her communication, but it nearly matched the recruiter’s so maybe –

“You’re also over a hundred. Now I’m not the best at humans, but most of these ones are about twenty.” He gave her a flat look and she glanced away. “You’ve got one more chance.”

Cass chewed on her bottom lip. “Gallifreyan.”

In a heartsbeat he changed, hair raising on his arms as he bolted upright, pointing a gun at her. “Damn face changer! What’re you doing here?” He had gone purple in the face and was spitting all over the table.

Snarling, she stepped closer to him, not heeding the gun pointed at her head. “I’m not a Time Lord! And I can’t regenerate.”

He glared at her, gun unwavering. “You could be lying.”

“Then here!” She ripped a glove off and stuck her hand out. “Take a look. I’m not a spy.” Her hearts pounded in her ears, doing this thing, offering her mind to a stranger, but she _had_ to enlist. She had to.

After a second, almost precisely, he lowered his gun, frowning. “Take a look?”

She forced herself to keep her arm out, but she couldn’t maintain eye contact, looking beyond him. “In my head. I’m offering, you don’t have to force your way in.”

“I’m not tele–” he started, and then stared, gun dropping entirely. “That’s illegal.”

She was starting to shiver, hand still raised. Rassilon. What if he took her up on it? What if he was in her head and saw and _knew_ and – “What – what’s illegal?”

The gun clattered to the floor as the recruiter gaped at her. “You’re not joking, are you? You really think I would – no.”

“What?” she said blankly, confused. She had been stupid, to think he was telepathic after so much evidence that he wasn’t, but still – no reason for him to react like _this_.

“Hell.” He stared at her, sitting back down. “You _are_ a Gallifreyan.”

Cass nodded, silent and wild-eyed.

His lips thinned momentarily and then he nodded. “What you’re talking about – that’s mind rape, and that’s illegal, on pain of getting sent straight to the front. The only people who do that are interrogators, and even they only do it if they’ve got evidence of treason. Which you haven’t.”

She blinked, nodded, and finally lowered her hand. “I don’t –”

“Hush,” he said sharply. “All recruits get a crash course in human culture.” He picked up the clipboard again. “Putting you down as a Dulcian. A bit unusual, but you’ll hardly be the first.”

Swallowing, Cass straightened. “You – you’ll let me in?”

He shrugged. “Can’t afford to lose you. You good at anything?”

“Running,” she said instantly.

His lips twitched. “Anything else? You telepathic too?”

She hesitated, and then nodded, glancing away from him. “’s a species thing,” she muttered. Didn’t matter didn’t _matter didn’t matter_. It was done now.

“Could be useful. Other skills?”

Think like an alien, if she could just think like an alien and view herself from another species’ view, there _had_  to be things she could do other than – “I’m time-sensitive,” she said, and his eyes lit up.

“Pilot then. Keep you away from the worst of it,” he said brusquely, and marked something down. “Now. Your oath. Do Gallifreyans have that?”

Cass nodded quickly. “Well,” she added, “the lower castes do. Don’t think Time Lords know what that is.”

He snorted. “Probably not. Do you, Cass, swear to obey your superior officers except in cases of malpractice on their part, to fight the Time Lords and the Daleks, and to do your best to save every soldier under you?”

“I do.”

He stamped the viewscreen and the form flickered before disappearing completely. “Welcome to the Service, Pilot Cass. Through those doors, quartermaster will get you outfitted.”

She saluted, fist to chest, and hesitated. “Is – is it real? Your hair?”

The recruiter smiled for the first time, tugging at his wiry blue strands. “Real as you are.”

Cass grinned. “Thank you, sir. And Founders watch you.”

 

She was outfitted, the kit already worn and faded, the uniform a patchy black, darker where the half-armour covered it. The guns – one pistol, one machine gun – were similarly abused, already complete with dents and smudges.

The quartermaster swore up and down that it all was new. Cass only had to touch them to know it was truth: their timelines were a tangled mess, looped back on each other and forward again, but the only owner of this set of gear was her, would always be her. It fit perfectly, the worn spots in the straps at first convincing her to tighten them too much, but a moment’s consideration left her feeling timesick and worried. She loosened them slightly, staring at herself in a battered mirror and wondering what was going to happen to cause her to lose that much weight.

Wondering if it was even going to happen now, or if identifying the paradox would make it warp out of reality.

Wondering if she was going to survive this one.

Wondering if anyone would survive this one, or if the Time Lords had finally let ego march ahead of good sense.

Forcing back her nausea, Cass marched off to report to a commander.

* * *

 

Her ship was brand new. It wasn’t a TARDIS, it was barely capable of time travel, and it certainly had no spark of sentience within it, yet when she walked up the gangplank, the lights at the helm lit up.

Jakar swore. “What’d you do?”

“Nothing,” she muttered, stepping up to the lead controls and letting her hand rest on the guidance wheel. Something deep within the ship hummed. She let her consciousness spread, brushing Jakar briefly then swinging around him, searching through the ship for something she wasn’t going to find.

She was right, it wasn’t alive, but there was only so much programming that could be done before even metal began to edge towards sentience, and this ship was the closest she had ever seen. It purred as she flipped the main computer banks on, the noise of the pseudo-consciousness merging with the growing hum of the machinery.

Jakar shifted, his spines raising slightly. “Sir?”

Cass smiled, hands running over the controls smoothly, watching in pleasure as the ship responded to her. “Ready whenever you are, Co-pilot.” Officially, she was a rookie, too raw to be trusted with a full gunship and crew, and so Jakar was her co-pilot. Unofficially, she could do things with the timeships that no one else could and so it didn’t matter her experience, she was in charge regardless.

“I’ll – get everyone else, shall I?”

She nodded, ignoring him. One finger flicked the intercom on, another activated autopilot.

The humming in her ears increased in pitch. “Greetings. This is the _SCS Warhammer_. Departure scheduled for oh three hundred hours. Departure codes not yet authorized. Repeat. Departure codes not yet authorized.”

Cass grinned, sinking into the pilot’s seat. “Hello, _Warhammer_ , this is Cass. Your pilot.”

“It’s just a scrap of metal, it can’t hear you,” Jakar muttered.

The ship purred. “Hello, Cass. Request departure codes immediately.”

Jakar swore again. “That’s not possible.”

“ _Warhammer_ , I’ll put in the codes once everyone’s on board.” Cass spun her seat around, looking up at Jakar. “Off you go.”

He scowled, spines flattening against his face, but stalked back off the ship.

The ship giggled, and she turned back, running a hand down the controls. “What’s SCS stand for?”

“Service Commissioned Ship,” the computer reported, audio crackling slightly.

Cass nodded, letting her hand rest on the brakes. “Have you received our orders yet?”

There was a clinking noise from the computer, and then it said, “Orders are in the process of being transferred.”

“Excellent.”

Jakar’s boots on the grating and his harsh edgy mind alerted her to his presence. “Permission to come aboard.”

Cass stood, fighting down a grin. “Permission granted.”

Spines returned to their normal position, Jakar beckoned on their crew. They were mostly human, or humanoid, with a variety of colours on their skin and hair, united only by the faded black uniforms and grey half armour. He introduced each one but Cass couldn’t remember all of them; the names and faces blurred together, overwhelmed by their emotions, anxiety and fear and excitement.

They saluted her – as their pilot, she was only nominally in charge, but she held their lives in her hands the moment they took off.

“Is that everyone?” she asked Jakar eventually, projecting confidence and strength while trying not to pass out from exhaustion.

He jerked his chin, his peoples’ version of a nod. “Yes, sir.”

Sighing, she returned to her seat, spinning to face the controls. “Let’s go then. Full power to thrusters, Co-pilot.”

Joining her, Jakar strapped himself in before reaching for his bank of controls. “Confirmed.”

“Thrusters firing.” She flipped a switch, finally pulling the straps around herself. The ship roared into life, floor vibrating as the engines hummed in her ears and in her mind. “ _Warhammer_ , what’s our destination?”

The banks in front of her lit up as she ran her hands smoothly over them, programming the ship and prepping her for flight. “Coordinates seven point three by ten point zero five by thirty three point eight from the Mutter’s Spiral centre.”

Cass clenched one hand, glancing down. “Androzani Minor,” she said quietly. “We’re to blow it up?”

“It doesn’t understand slang,” Jakar said, monitoring the fuel line. “I’m surprised it understands –”

As if to prove him wrong, the computer whirred. “Negative. Orders: to protect Androzani Minor from the Time Lords.”

She had to take her hands entirely off the controls at that, to keep from bumping something important. “Founders preserve us,” she muttered, trying not to shake. There were legends about Androzani Minor, ones even she had heard in her travels, and her first instinct was to support the Time Lords in this one.

Jakar swore. “Why’d they want us to save that stinking hole?”

“ _Warhammer_?” Cass asked, hands clenching on the arms of her seat. Of _course_ her first mission was to fight Time Lords, of course it was, they couldn’t waste her on the Daleks, apparently the Dalek front was holding but every time they went up against the Time Lords they lost, ships vanishing from time only to return three minutes later, firing on the Service fleets.

“Records indicate that Androzani Minor is the only source of spectrox.”

Swearing continuously, Jakar pounded the panel harder than really necessary. “Why am I even _here_ , anyway? Could’ve run, could’ve chosen a side that might win, could’ve –”

“Because _maybe_ , by fighting, we can slow the war,” Cass spat, returning her hands to the control panel. “This was your idea. If you want to back out now, the door’s behind you.”

He looked towards her, eyelids flickering. “No. No, I’ll fight.”

Jutting her jaw, she nodded firmly. “Lift off in t minus ten.” She twisted the ignition, one hand on the lift lever. “Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five.” Jakar held down the buttons for the stabilizers as she moved one hand to the throttle. “Four. Three.” Cass yanked the lever down, and the ship tilted nearly ninety degrees. “Two. One. Lift off.” Jakar released the stabilizers. _Warhammer_ _howled_ in her mind and leaped for the sky, Cass’s fingers tight on the throttle, straining to control the ship.

In the back of her mind, she could feel the more telepathic members of the crew adjusting to the sudden loss of gravity; the cockpit was the only place with artificial grav because of the instrumentation. After a moment, a projection shimmered into view on top of the instruments and she began calculating distances. “Twenty three seconds until the jump to a quantum tunnel.” They were accelerating through the atmosphere, the projection showing the rapid approach of a satellite lattice. The projection was in oranges and purples and infrared and she read the information easily.

Jakar made a querying noise, double checking the life support systems. “We won’t be out of the gravitational pull of the planet yet.”

“And?” She grinned again, the ship singing with her; her mind fed off its nascent consciousness and looped back, increasing the programme’s intelligence. “We can make it.”

His spines rattled. “It’s not certified for jumping within a gravitational field.”

Cass snorted, one hand on the navigation system, the other reaching for the jump lever. “I told you, we can make it. _Warhammer_ knows her limits.”

“Neither of you has ever been on a mission before!” Jakar snapped, but Cass had already found the lever.

Pulling down, Cass yelled wordlessly as the world twisted around her, _Warhammer_ shifting from reality to a complex loop of dimensions. The tunnels were random and constantly changing, but they provided the only areas not monitored by the Time Lords and so the only locations safe enough to leap from into the Time Vortex. They were in the tunnel for a nanospan, Cass twisting controls and propelling them off into the Vortex. The projection flashed through images, from a blood-brown cylinder constantly changing, to a golden green-orange-blue river, colours the others on board couldn’t see but that shone in her eyes, lights no other species had ever known.

Jakar began swearing the moment they hit the tunnel and didn’t stop until they had been in the Vortex for a full microspan. “Are you _mad_?”

“Possibly,” Cass said, cackling. _Warhammer_ joined in, the programming learning about humour from the depths of her mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags become relevant in this chapter, fyi

Androzani Minor was hell. Cass had gotten one of the NCOs to explain the human concept to her, and she was pretty sure that was an accurate description. The humans on the ground refused to let them land, leaving _Warhammer_ stuck in orbit while they waited. They had one Lieutenant, who went down to negotiate food and medical supplies. Ey came up two hours later swearing; when ey calmed enough to explain, Cass learned that the humans didn’t want their help – they were trying to sell spectrox to the Time Lords as well. The Lieutenant had tried to explain that a functionally immortal species didn’t precisely _need_ a drug to extend life, but apparently the humans weren’t listening.

Beyond that, however, beyond minor annoyances and casual gripes, beyond Jakar questioning her every thought and the Lieutenant worrying more over eir soldiers than the larger picture, beyond the humans actually preparing _missiles_ unless they vacated the airspace, beyond all those was the battle itself.

The first Cass knew of it was a shift in the timelines. She had been asleep in the cockpit, which she rarely left unless forced; the world tilted and she jolted awake, breath caught. Flipping the main power on, she accessed the database and nearly vomited. It wasn’t just a shift – they were cutting Androzani Minor out of time entirely.

“All hands to stations.” The steadiness of her voice surprised even herself, but Cass kept her hand on the intercom. “Red alert. All hands to battle stations. Prepare to attack immediately.”

Jakar ran in, boots sliding. “What’s happened?”

She already was setting up a quantum tunnel haphazardly, improvising her way through the physics. “Time Lords.”

“Yes, obviously,” he snapped, falling into his seat. “What about them?”

Cass snarled aloud and mentally shoved the equations into place, _Warhammer_ creaking as she scrambled to adjust. “Jump in five.”

Jakar hissed, spines rattling. “What are you _doing_?”

“Jumping,” she said, yanking on the lever. The universe warped and the ship screamed, shedding excess weight to make it through. The projections snapped online, glowing in rusty silver.

Thrown out of his seat by the sudden shift, Jakar banged against the control panel, swearing. “We can’t jump, there isn’t a tunnel near here!”

Cass scowled, trying to remember if the galley counted as strictly necessary. “There wasn’t _before_.”

“How do you _make_ a quantum tunnel?”

Hands tight on random levers, Cass bit her lip and pulled. The ship stabilized, floating inside the tunnel, only moderately damaged. “Block transfer computations,” she said finally.

Spines standing upright, Jakar settled back into his seat and pulled his harness on firmly. “And what’re those?”

Cass tried to translate the idea and then gave up. “Telepathic mathematics. Sort of.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Jakar grumbled.

She turned on the intercom again, ignoring him. “Crew should now be at battle stations.” Hands back on the jump levers, Cass leaned slightly towards the mike. “Jumping into the Time Vortex in three. Two. One. Now.”  She hauled on the levers and braced herself. _Warhammer_ screeched, both in her mind and aloud with the noise of metal on rock, the universe tearing around her bow. Cass froze, trying to control their flight telepathically, straining to cover the entire ship.

_Warhammer_ slammed into a barrier between the quantum tunnel and the Time Vortex, the impact shuddering along timelines and leaving red-violet streaks in Cass’s eyes. “Open fire!” she yelled, muscles clenched.

The cannon fire made the cockpit shake worse than before.

“Explain or face court martial!” Jakar had a staser out and pointed at her.

Cass ignored him, fingers splayed on the navigation panel. They backed away from the barrier, coming back into position with all the grace of a starwhale, slow and methodical. “Prepare to ram!” _Warhammer_ lunged forward, smashing through the barrier, the action making the ship and the Vortex howl as one, their voices inharmonious in her mind. Cass scanned the instruments, shivering, the projections shining green-bronze in her eyes.

They were surrounded by war TARDISes, the Vortex itself unstable and shifting as the Time Lords attacked Androzani’s very existence. There was a moment’s pause, and then Cass had to fight the full weight of a Time Lord attack.

Screaming, she dropped all the controls and curled into a ball, throwing up barriers as quickly as the invader took them down. It was _in her mind_ , a raging thrusting probe, shredding her thoughts and attacking her very core. She was a lower caste, she didn’t have the skills or strength to defend against this, and they were being boosted by the rest of their team, far beyond the strength of one Time Lord.

It battered against her shields, tearing them apart, leaving gouges across her mind that she knew would take ages to heal. She threw back at it everything she had, hate and anger and despair and the memories of –

Jakar knocked into her, and she very nearly lashed out. The Time Lord was just as shocked, pulling back and giving her an opportunity to put more defences up, shields and traps and other tricks, none of which had any hope of working against one as powerful as them.

In an instant the Time Lord had recovered and was probing in again, discarding her shields easily, their touch clinging and tainting, pressing at areas she would rather forget about.

“Disengage!”

Cass shrieked, the Time Lord shredding her thoughts and pulling the old memories up. The ship tilted, and her head banged against the seat back.

“I repeat, disengage! Starting jump now!”

_Warhammer_ cried out with her, metal screeching, and then –

It went silent.

Shuddering, Cass tucked back into a ball, hands pulling her knees up to her chest.

Jakar touched her and she screamed, his mind – never truly quiet – abruptly on top of hers, too much, too loud, too close. He jumped back, spines upright. “What happened there?”

She whimpered, the very act of forming thoughts unbearably painful. The scars from last time were still there but now they were inflamed and open and a thousand times worse, covered anew with gaping holes. “Time Lord,” she gasped, unable to look at him.

“Yes, I got that,” he snapped, mind flaring with anger.

Hands trembling, Cass managed to unbuckle herself, almost immediately collapsing onto the floor. “A – a doctor. Get a doctor.”

He reached for her again and she twisted so that he only caught her arm, his bare hand cushioned by layers of fabric. “What _happened_?”

She pulled herself upright, clinging to the control panel, and managed to hit the intercom entirely by accident. “Navigation to medbay, we need a doctor up here _now_.”

“What happened?”

It hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt – “Mental attack. Send someone with psychic-blocking drugs.” The thought sent spikes across her mind and her arms gave out entirely. She came down again, full weight landing on one elbow and pain shattered through her arm.

“On their way,” someone said, and then the static from the intercom cut out.

Cass whined unconsciously, pressing herself against the controls until the pressure turned into pain.

Jakar bent down beside her, spines erect. “Cass – _Cass_ – are you okay?”

She hissed at him, hunching her shoulders. “Don’t touch me.”

“She’s got a point, Pilot Jakar. Keep back please,”  a cool voice said. “Pilot Cass – can you sit up?”

Cass tensed, the brush of another mind agonizing. “Go _away_.”

There was a pause, and then the voice said softly, “My hands are gloved. I’m going to hand you a patch. Can you put it on?”

She managed to reach out a hand and grab at something. It felt small, the edges smooth against her palm, the touch a focus. She fumbled the slip off and slapped the patch on the back of one wrist.

Instantly the world dulled, one of her senses cut off at the root. The pain vanished, along with her entire knowledge of time. It was disorienting and more than a little disturbing and for the first time in what felt like hours, she could think.

Cass clenched her teeth, standing up with one hand on the console. “Thank you,” she bit out, staring at the shape of the medic. “Jakar, where are we?”

Jakar paused briefly. “We’re in a simple tunnel.”

“Where?” she demanded, settling back into her seat. “And when? And where are the Time Lords, they won’t have given up.”

The medic touched her very gently. “Pilot, you’re not stable enough –”

She snorted, buckling herself back in, reaching for the controls. “I _must_ be stable enough. I’m the only one who knows them. Jakar, when are we?”

Jakar shifted, spines rattling. “I don’t know. I just – flew. The Time Lords followed.”

“ _Warhammer_ – oh Omega,” she spat, remembering. The ship no longer buzzed in her mind, the only sound she could hear was its engines, straining for power. “Jakar, I need a visual. Doctor, you can go back to the medbay. I’ll be fine.” The medic left silently, Cass’s attention on the ship.

The projections flickered on, giving her a 270 degree view. She shouted in excitement, and then sobered rapidly. In a quantum tunnel they might have been, but _Warhammer_ was flying erratically, chased and battered by two – no, three war TARDISes. Cass reached for the navigation panel, hands moving rapidly.

“Jakar, it’s going to be rough.” She hauled on the thrusters, sending _Warhammer_ spiralling through the tunnel, flight path unpredictable. The TARDISes followed, flashing in and out of reality.

Jakar hissed. “What is going on? What happened, where are we going, why don’t we turn and fight?”

She wished like _anything_ that she could connect with the ship again, for the near-instantaneous communication between them, but had to resort to manual steering, doing her best to keep _Warhammer_ away from the sides of the tunnel. “What happened was that I was telepathically attacked, where we’re going is far enough away from them to get into the Vortex and then back to a Service ship, and we can’t turn and run.”

“What? Why not?”

The projection flashed through fourteen colours and she snarled, banking hard. The ship screeched through nonexistence, popping out the side of the tunnel. Immediately the projection darkened, turning into a black lightless void. Cass bit her lip and yanked on the throttle. _Warhammer_ leaped forward as she extended instrumentation. “Any clue when we are?”

Jakar made a noise that she took for disagreement.

She hissed, and began the search for a tunnel. “Jakar, check the personnel lists. How many soldiers aboard?” Alarms flashed and she began evasive manoeuvres, devoting more energy than safe to the sensors.

“Thirty nine,” Jakar said after a minute.

Cass laughed harshly, spiralling the ship for a moment. Two of the TARDISes had followed them out and were sitting between them and the nearest tunnel, grey sides gleaming in the dark. She nearly spat but held it in, turning again and diving relative to them. It was a trick that might work on humans but not on Time Lords, and she didn’t expect it to. The TARDISes followed, not bothering to jump ahead. They knew she was caught, no need to waste energy. Cut off from the quantum tunnels, there was no way into the Vortex that wasn’t guarded by Time Lords.

Which may have been.

Defeat clawing at her back, Cass brought _Warhammer_ to a complete rest, revolving slowly in space. “There were forty five aboard when we left the Androzani system,” she said, eyes on the scanners. Time Lords had a few flaws, and one was a deep curiosity.

The TARDISes crept closer on the projections.

“No there weren’t.”

Closer, closer – close enough she could make out the time cannons and the portals through which soldiers could insert and exit.

Jakar burst out, “What the _hell_ are you –”

A violent grin on her face, Cass opened thrusters. _Warhammer_ slipped between the TARDISes, moving quicker than even they could anticipate, and was down the tunnel before they could react. The projection flashed into light, copper-pink, and she had them in the Vortex very nearly as fast.

The cockpit was silent for a moment, silence broken by faint, hysterical giggling. It took Cass seconds to realize it was her, and seconds longer to stop, breath still coming in short jerks.

Jakar took several gasping breaths before finally saying, “There weren’t forty five.”

She sighed, taking up the controls again and setting coordinates for the _Trojan Horse_ , the only Service ship to be dimensionally transcendental. “There were. Or there would have been, if it weren’t for the Time Lords.”

“What’s that mean?” he demanded.

They popped out of the Vortex, silent and unnoticed, coming smoothly into orbit around the _Trojan Horse_. “Means that there are six people who never existed, wiped from history.”

“Oh,” Jakar said quietly. “Oh.”

* * *

 

_Trojan Horse_ might have been the hub of Service communications, but there was little they could do, other than to patch up _Warhammer_ and give them new orders. They were losing the war, Cass could see that easily. Even their mission to Androzani had been a last-ditch stand, a fight in the hopes that they could destroy some Time Lords before falling themselves. There were rumours of monsters, of beings beyond conception, of creatures from before the dawn of time. More reliably, there were ships – ship after ship after ship – that went out and never came back, and some that never went out at all, just vanished overnight from their berthings, crew no longer extant in the register.

Cass was the only time-sensitive on the station, and the only one to know the extent of the damage. She made reports when she could, but all too often was side-lined, kicked out for bringing information they didn’t want to know, couldn’t deal with.

High command sent _Warhammer_ out on missions again and again and again, quickly realizing that they had the highest survival rate of any ship, and so upping the danger of each run. Cass pushed herself to her limits, straining to learn the rules of this war, and every time discovering that there were no rules. At the end of the day, she lived for _Warhammer_ and little else. The ship every mission edged closer to sentience, and if she was too tired to program, she at least slept open minded, allowing the ship to use what she needed. Between the two of them, they were the greatest source of knowledge the Service had, and were used accordingly.

But even she with all her information didn’t see the end coming.


	3. Chapter 3

The alarms sent her flying out of bed, reaching for the box she kept on a bedside table. The muting patches were the only reason she hadn’t long since gone insane;  the medics sent a new set round every time they remembered and she wore them as some humans did their crosses – obsessively and without question. Slapping one on, she pulled on half-armour and ran out the door of her cabin, nearly smacking into Jakar.

Her co-pilot saluted briefly. “ _Trojan Horse_ is under attack.”

Cass swore, a habit stolen from Jakar. “How long?” A more relevant question – why hadn’t she felt it – went unspoken. He couldn’t answer anyway.

“Three minutes.”

She hissed and took off down the corridor at a run. “Who?”

He snorted, following. “Time Lords.”

“ _Specifically_.”

Together they climbed into the cockpit, he swinging the door shut and locked, she strapping herself into her seat. “Two Time Stations and nearly a hundred TARDISes. And something else that no one’s seen,” Jakar reported.

She frowned, bringing systems online. “What’s that mean?”

“There’s something out there, according to reports, that no one can see.” He buckled in as well. “All systems clear.”

Cass fired thrusters, sending _Warhammer_ spinning from her orbit around the other ship. “Sounds fun. Orders?”

Jakar sighed, contacting the weapons bay. “Kill any we can, try not to die.”

“Today just keeps getting better.” _Warhammer_ hummed her agreement. “I’ll do what I can to keep us in range.”

He jerked his chin, turning full attention to his duties.

Cass settled in to _fly_.

* * *

 

They flew. _Warhammer_ alone took out three TARDISes through a combination of luck and trickery, and only took minor damage. _Trojan Horse_ held their own against a Time Station, returning attack for attack. Other ships fared less well, many vanishing entirely. Cass gritted her teeth every time it happened, and flew slightly more recklessly, pushing the limits a tad more.

It ended when they were in a tunnel, trying to get around behind the latest TARDIS. The intercom sputtered into life. “ _Warhammer_! _Warhammer_ , do you read?”

Cass flipped her com unit on, keeping a hand on the controls. “Copy _Trojan_ , this is _Warhammer_.”

There was a moment of static. “Run. Get the hell out of there. This is your superior officer speaking, telling you to get out.”

Jakar began swearing in more languages than Cass knew.

She stared at him across the cockpit, feeling young and frightened for the first time in months.

He calmed quickly, looking back at her. “We have our orders.”

Cass nodded, and disengaged. _Warhammer_ didn’t want to go, retreating only slowly, but once away, it was seconds until they were into a tunnel. They floated there a minute, Jakar relaying their new orders to the crew, and then Cass nudged them into the Vortex. She froze, staring at the projection.

The Vortex was normally vibrant to the point of debauchery, colours jarring and swirling, a river made of psychedelic rainbows.  Now it was damped and muted and twisted, colours strange and dark and muddied, the walls themselves budging and malformed.

Shivering, nearly ready to vomit despite the patch on her hand, Cass sent _Warhammer_ plunging down the Vortex, aimed for a random set of coordinates.

Behind them, the Vortex cracked. “Three TARDISes behind us,” Jakar said quietly.

Cass nodded, setting the ship to spiralling, revolving through the Vortex. “Hold on.”

They couldn’t take on three TARDISes at once, could barely take on two, and whatever was going on in the Vortex was a terror and a danger. Cass, fingers glued to the controls, kept them alive for longer than she’d hoped, evading everything the TARDISes could throw at them, and even giving them the opportunity to fire something back.

The end came with a bang and a whimper, loud and soft, an explosion through her eyes and her eyes alone. _Warhammer_ collided with the end of the Time Vortex, the impact giving her whiplash and throwing her against the straps, colours flaring in her mind, navy blue and garnet and ochre.

Swearing nearly as fluently as Jakar, Cass turned the ship, getting her in motion once more, only to find that they were trapped. The TARDISes had caught up and were blocking their way out of a dead end that should never exist.

“Now what?” Jakar demanded and she shook her head, silent. They were caught, they were stuck, they were done, it was over.

The Vortex _burst_ , the walls tearing open to reveal void and absence, black and a lack of black that twisted at her eyes. From the nothing came a something, a shape she could not describe if forced to, a being as far beyond a Time Lord as the Time Lords were beyond humans, all limbs and time and stars.

Jakar screamed, a high pitched noise she never wanted to hear again that grated against her ears. She _wanted_ to scream, eyes locked on the thing, a monster if such a thing had ever existed, a creature from the Dark Times surely, or perhaps before even that. Mouth clenched shut, she spun _Warhammer_ and dove out of the Vortex, exploding back into normal space.

The ship howled, giving voice to everything she could not, and they spiralled out of control for a moment, trajectory approaching a star before she could correct it. Her patch slipped for a moment and the world went dark, her mind taken over by the end, by the abyss, by the abomination that pursued. It saw her, the touch of its mind more and less and _there_ in a way nothing had ever been, sending pain singing down her nerves. She choked back a scream and clamped a hand down on the patch, pinning it to her skin.

The being vanished, gone from her mind, and she lunged for the controls. “Jakar!”

He was still screaming. Cass tried to tune him out, taking _Warhammer_ in hand, sending her spinning through empty space, starting to set up an evasion path.

The monster – there were legends on any planet, and Gallifrey had more than most. Which one this belonged to, she wasn’t sure, but it seemed to attack telepathically. She was safe – or safer – now, mind tamped down, a psychic void to anyone looking. The rest of the crew, however silent they were to her normal mind, still had some touches of telepathy. It left them open to attack.

Which meant – her.

Cass ignored Jakar’s howls, ignored that he could not be the only one in pain, ignored the shrieking of the ship’s metal beneath her, and spun _Warhammer_ , headed back towards the Vortex, towards the hole in space through which colours bled.

The monster blocked their path, solidifying for reasons of its own, manifesting tentacles and flesh and teeth, howling on all frequencies. It snapped at them, a mouth nearly closing on the ship. Cass hauled on the throttle and _Warhammer_ leapt forward, scraping clear. The answering roar shook the entire ship, briefly disrupting the artificial grav. She was thrown roughly against the straps, breath knocked out of her. Swearing as she struggled to breathe in, Cass twisted the ship, plunging through a set of tentacles

It followed, shredding timelines in its path. She held the throttle open, forcing more from the ship than she wanted to give, only letting out a shaky breath when they fell into the Vortex. The monster would chase them, but they had a nanospan’s head start.

“ _Jakar_.”

He jolted upright. “Cass.”

Her knuckles were white against the thrusters and she didn’t take her eyes off the projections. “Prepare the teleport. Lock onto the nearest ship, friendly or otherwise.”

“Sir?”

She dodged a TARDIS that clearly wasn’t prepared for them. “The Time Vortex is collapsing,” she bit out. “We can’t make it back.”

He was silent for a moment. If she was forced to guess, it was from anger, but she had never quite learned to read facial expressions and without her telepathy, she was completely lost. “So now what?” he said, voice trembling. “We die?”

“No.” Cass kept her voice steady, steering _Warhammer_ out of the Vortex briefly, letting them fly along a quantum tunnel before diving back in. “I told you. Teleport. Set it up.”

The thing screeched, making the walls of the Vortex flash black and amber and the ship shudder around her. Cass snarled, wrenching the thrusters and spinning her, tumbling through the Vortex. Jakar gave her a look that she couldn’t read and turned to his controls.

It took him three minutes according to the ship’s clock. In that time she kept them alive by the skin of her teeth, pushing _Warhammer_ for everything she had, avoiding the TARDISes with ease and the monster with somewhat less.

“Done,” Jakar said quietly, at the same moment as something in the depths of the controls went dead.

Cass froze, unheeding of his words. “No,” she whispered, “no, no, no, no, sweet, don’t do this, come on, come on pretty –” Her hands convulsed on the thrusters and nothing changed.

Nothing.

The ship was dead. “Navigation’s gone.” The words dropped from her mouth with no sense behind them. “Gone as in never existed. Something hit us.”

“I’ve got the teleports ready.” Jakar unbuckled himself, nearly touching her before holding back. “Cass, we’re ready to go. It doesn’t matter.”

She let out one short whine, and then composed herself. Alive, dead, alive, dead, alive, dead – what was the difference? There were soldiers aboard this ship, good ones, ones whose names she had finally managed to learn and it was her responsibility to save –

The ship shook stem to stern, a hundred lights flashing on the controls: fuel supply, oxygen supply, stabilizers, anti grav, too many for her to list. And one bright one, a siren light over and over again, the bulb directly over a label saying _General Power_.

Jakar swore, rapidly and at length, beginning to float around the cockpit.

Cass ignored him, letting herself out of her seat and swinging over to put a hand over the teleport controls. “Goodbye, Pilot.”

He silenced immediately, staring at her. “What about you?”

“Someone’s got to send you off,” she said, breaths rapid. “Can’t stabilize the trajectory from within.”

Jakar had a hand on his seat, was making his way back, probably to pull her away, but she brought her hand down on the controls. The chip implanted in his neck at recruitment activated and he vanished in a shower of silver sparks. A few of the lights on the controls shut down as the rest of the crew vanished as well – to the _Odysseus_ , the computer informed her, the words strangely distant and unreal.

Cass shivered, all too aware that she was alone on the ship. The ship that had now entered the gravitational pull of a small planet and showed no signs of going into orbit. The ship that was without working engines.

 _Warhammer_ began to accelerate, her own momentum propelling her towards the planet. Cass swallowed, staring at the control panels. “Where there’s life, there’s hope,” she whispered, hands splaying over the controls. It was the work of a moment to redirect the remaining power from engines to life support; that done, the anti grav restored itself.

Cass hit the floor, grabbing onto the edge of the controls to keep herself upright. Next – communications. Power normally used for the rest of the ship went to that, and through a minor miracle, she got a powered-down AI working. “Hello?” she tested, returning to her seat.

“Greetings,” the computer returned impersonally.

She snarled at it, but convinced it to open a broad range distress beacon. “Help me!” she called, the words sticking in her throat the first time. “Please – can anybody hear me?” No, probably not, the only ships in range would be TARDISes but it was worth a _shot_ there _might_ be something else and anyway she could still fire at the TARDISes –

“Please state the nature of your ailment or injury.”

She could have kicked it but she was busy trying desperately, hoping against all the odds, to get the nav systems back online. “I’m not injured,” she spat, “I’m _crashing_. Don’t need a doctor.” She didn’t, the patch was safely on, mostly concealed under one sleeve.

The basic AI, she’d forgotten, was disturbingly literal. “A clear statement of your symptoms will help us provide the medical practitioner appropriate to your individual needs.”

Cass glared at it, almost tempted to take the patch off, but no – the Time Lords could be back at any point. “I’m _trying_ to send a distress signal.” She reached for communications, but that was mostly gone, sparks flying as the rewired systems complained. “ _Stop_ talking about doctors.”

“I’m a doctor,” a voice put in, and she spun, shocked. There wasn’t anyone else on board, there _couldn’t_ be, so who -? “But probably not the one you’re expecting.” It was a humanoid, clothed in something dark, blue and black.

She frowned, hands tight on her armrests as it – it sounded human male, but she couldn’t be sure – stepped towards her controls.

“Where are the rest of the crew?” It _looked_ human male too, bits and pieces fitting in patchwork, never a whole picture, but enough that she was comfortable assigning pronouns. The newcomer bent over the controls, apparently reading the output easily.

She looked up at him, desperate and hoping. “Teleported off.”

He pulled back, frowning at her. What was left of navigation went up in a spray of sparks. “But you’re still here.”

Cass half shrugged, almost believing – _almost_ – that he might be able to save her. “I had to teleport them.”

He turned to the controls, hands running over them, not pressing anything, just getting their measure. “Why you?”

“Everyone else was screaming,” she said with a near-laugh.

Giving up on the controls, he turned back to you. “Welcome aboard.”

She _did_ hope at that, did believe, delight spilling over into her voice. “Aboard what?” He couldn’t welcome her aboard something if he didn’t have a ship, and if he had a ship, she could get off.

“I’ll show you,” he told her, holding out a hand.

Cass took it gladly, letting him pull her up. Behind her, the controls sparked and flashed, the room full of angry lights and distressed wires. He dragged her out of the cockpit and down a corridor. Initially following enthusiastically, she did slow a little, confused. “Where are we going?”

“Back of the ship.” He pulled on her arm, trying to move faster.

She let him, stumbling in the unclear light. “Why?”

He snorted slightly, jogging. “Because the front crashes first, think it through.” This was absurd logic, and she was about to point it out, but one of the blast doors closed in front of them and he sighed, thudding one hand against it.

She dropped his hand, turning in a circle. Sometimes movement helped with thought, and she _had_ the codes, but in an emergency – did they lock completely?

“Why did you do that,” the man murmured, pressed against the door.

Cass shook her head. “Emergency protocols,” she said, stepping closer to him.

He pulled something out of his pocket – sonic technology, though that was dated and obsolete. Why did he have it? – and waved it over the door. “What’s your name?”

“Cass,” she told him, the same response she had given since recruitment.

He continued running the sonic device over the door. “You’re young to be crewing a gunship, Cass.”

Well that may be as that may be but he had no right to comment on it. “I wanted to see the universe,” she said instead. “Is it always like this?” Billions dead, trillions left to die, the war, the war, the never-ending war –

“If you’re lucky.” He glanced at her, clicking the device one last time. The door clanked open again. He stepped forward, taking her hand and almost smiling.

It was a storage room, little more than a glorified closet, what could he have _possibly_ put in here – a box. Her hearts sank as she began to work it out. A tall blue box.

He looked back at her when she hesitated. “Don’t worry, it’s bigger on the inside.”

Cass froze, staring at him, more frightened than she’d been since they escaped from the monster, almost more frightened than that. “What did you say? Bigger on the inside, is that what you said?” No no no no no, it couldn’t be, it _couldn’t_ be, not here, not on her ship, no no no no, not _one of them_.

“Yes, come on, you’ll love it.” He pulled lightly on her hand, looking between her and the box.

She stepped backwards, pointing at _it_. “Is this – a _TARDIS_?” She couldn’t not spit the word.

He nodded. “Yes, but you’ll be perfectly safe, I promise –”

Cass yanked her hand away, snarling. “Don’t _touch_ me!” Her voice cracked horribly.

“I’m not part of the war,” he said to her, slowly, _patronizingly_. “I swear to you, I never was.”

She  managed to jerk her chin up, kept from breaking down completely. “You’re a _Time_ Lord.”

He bent slightly, probably projecting kindness with all of his black hearts. “Yes, I’m a Time Lord, but I’m one of the _nice_ ones.” He stepped forward.

Backing up, past the blast doors, Cass held up her hands – in defence or surrender, even she wasn’t sure. “Get away from me!” she yelled, voice trembling even worse than she was.

“Look on the bright side, I’m not a _Dalek_ ,” he burst out, advancing again.

She stared at him, shivering, very nearly frozen until his last word betrayed some remnant of emotion. “Who can tell the _difference_ anymore?” Biting her lip, she slammed a hand on the emergency lock. The blast door crashed shut.

“ _Cass_!” the Time Lord shouted, rushing forward.

Her eyes met his, and she was certain he could read the victory pouring off her. She might die here, but that was far, _far_ better than being dragged back to Gallifrey and re-Loomed. “It’s deadlocked,” she spat. “Don’t even try.”

“Cass,” he said again, apparently delusional to think that would work, “just open the door, I’m _trying_ to help.” Of course he thought he was helping, he thought he could turn her back into a good little soldier.

She was already shaking her head. “Go back to your battlefield,” she shouted. His eyes were locked on hers and he remained silent. “You haven’t finished yet,” she said, more quietly, voice cracking, “some of the universe is still standing.”

“I’m not leaving this ship without you!”

Cass leaned against the door, victory flooding her. If she had to die, at least – “Then you’re gonna die right here. Best news all day.”

He shook his head. “Cass,” he said quietly, then repeated it. “Cass.” Pounding on the door, he nearly threw himself against it. “ _Cass_!”

He kept yelling it even as she backed away, kept yelling as she dropped to her knees and tucked her head, kept yelling as they entered the atmosphere with no shields.

Kept yelling as she died.

* * *

 

Cass stepped up to the recruiter, silent and sober, head full of memories. Being Gallifreyan meant she was time-sensitive, meant she could remember former timelines. Like the one in which, apparently, she had died.

Resolved not to do the same this time, she let the conversation play out much as before, only quieter on her part.

This time, she died at the end of a Dalek weapon, captured by them two months in.

* * *

 

She died again when _Warhammer’s_ shields gave out without warning.

She died again when sent to face the Daleks on her first mission.

She died again when the Old Ones returned.

She died again and again and again on _Warhammer_ , always with that same Time Lord watching.

Once she let him save her.

Once they left _Warhammer_ and she found out he was the Doctor and they got away.

Once a _fleet_ of Time Stations tracked them down and balanced her life against the Doctor’s freedom. He chose her life and then they killed her anyway.

The next time she suicided.

The next time she ran, away from the war. She lasted three months, and then the Daleks found the planet she was hiding on.

She died again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And she remembered all of them.

Every

Single

One


End file.
